


Waiting Game

by romanticalgirl



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7961116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guy hires Mickey for the same thing every time. But not this time. This time he wants to play a game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting Game

Mickey doesn’t know the guy’s name. He doesn’t like names. Names are sticky. Glue that holds you to a time, a place, a person. Mickey just knows the guy comes looking specifically for him and he wants something Mickey’s more than willing to give him for the price he’s willing to pay. 

Some things aren’t a sacrifice.

He smiles at Mickey and tilts his head. Mickey follows him at a distance after finishing his drink. It’s been this routine since the first time, and Mickey knows how to play by the rules. He gets in the elevator next to him and glances at him out of the corner of his eye. The guy is in a dress shirt and a tie, which puts a whorl of heat in Mickey’s stomach. His bright red hair is darker now that it’s winter. Mickey doesn’t think about how long they’ve been doing this, but the first time his hair was streaked from the sun, shining like a beacon.

The guy unlocks the room and goes inside. Mickey follows behind, puts on the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and locks the door behind him. The guy takes off his tie and undoes the top button of his shirt as he glances back at Mickey. “Undress.”

Mickey smirks and grabs the back of his tight, black t-shirt and pulls it over his head. He tosses it on the chair and then shucks his equally tight, faded gray jeans. The boxers go down with them and he steps out of his shoes and socks. Most clients he doesn’t undress all the way – they’re rarely looking for something more than a quick fuck – but this guy wants more.

“Come here.” Mickey walks over and stops right in front of him. Without the guy saying anything, he brings his hands in front of him, wrists together. “Eager.”

Mickey shrugs as the guy winds the tie around Mickey’s wrists, securing them carefully. He never makes it too tight, not even as tight as Mickey would let him. As soon as the knots tied, Mickey walks over to the bed and crawls up toward the headboard. He knows he’s got an amazing ass which is probably why he’s so damn good at his job, and he knows this guy likes to appreciate it. 

Mickey’s a master at giving the client what he wants.

He turns over and lays on his back, stretching his arms over his head. The guy pulls a rope out of his briefcase and weaves it through the loop he’s made in the tie and then secures an end to either end of the headboard. Mickey arches his back to test the rope, settling back on the bed with satisfaction. He doesn’t know why he does. The guy never falters, never fails.

“We’re going to try something a little different tonight.”

Mickey raises an eyebrow that he knows speaks volumes. “Changes are negotiated up front.”

“I’ll pay extra.” 

“Yes, you will, assuming I agree to it.” He knows he can break the tie if he has to, though it might cost him some of the skin on his wrists.

“I just want to take my time. Make it last.”

“You’ve paid for the night. You can last as long as you want.”

“Not quite what I mean.” He undoes his shirt a button at a time and Mickey watches and bites his lower lip. The guy is built like some sort of porn star. He’s bulked up, but not overly so. His abs put washboards to shame, and his cock is the sort of thing Mickey used to think about when he was spanking his dick in the dark of his bedroom. 

The guy kicks off his slacks, and he’s fucking naked, like he’s been planning this all day. Mickey’s dick jerks and he can feel it filling out. Mickey spreads his legs, heels on the bed as the guy digs out a condom and lube. The guy always insists on bringing his own stuff, like Mickey’s going to not come prepared. But the client is always right until they’re really fucking wrong, so Mickey doesn’t complain. He still brings his own in case the guy tries something, but so far he hasn’t had to get into that argument.

“So what do you mean?”

“I want you to last.”

“Pretty sure part of the deal is you tell me when it’s okay to come.”

“I know.” He kneels on the edge of the bed and bites the inside of Mickey’s thigh. Mickey’s cock hardens more, and he spreads his legs wider. “But this time I’m not going to tell you. Not for a long, long time.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He leans in and licks from Mickey’s knee down to the base of his thigh. His dark red hair brushes Mickey’s shaft and Mickey bites back a noise. “It means I’m going to drag this out for hours.” He nuzzles the head of Mickey’s cock and licks across the damp slit. “I’m going to make you writhe and beg and _wait_. I’m going to take you to the edge over and over and over until you are incoherent with the need to come and then, if you’re very good, I might let you come all over yourself.” He traces the ridge of the head with his tongue then licks across it again. 

“...oh.” Mickey isn’t sure what to say or what to think, but it’s not anything on his ‘fuck no, no fucking way’ list, so he just nods and closes his eyes as the guy keeps teasing his cock. He licks and nips and sucks and Mickey’s cock fills out completely. He moans softly as the guy traces his tongue along the vein on the underside of Mickey’s dick, applying firm pressure from base to tip. He swallows hard. “Y-yeah.”

“Like that, hmm?” He bites the juncture of Mickey’s thigh and then sucks the skin hard. Mickey’s hips come off the bed and the guy’ slides his hands under Mickey’s thighs to wrap around and digs his fingers into Mickey’s hips. He bites again, slightly lower, then sucks, using his teeth to gently scrape the skin. 

He keeps it up, moving up Mickey’s thighs to his knees and then back down, working over the same spots so that the mixture of pleasure and pain slides deeper, coils up Mickey’s spine. He repeats the process on Mickey’s other leg, and Mickey’s cock leaks, leaving a trail of wet when movement makes it slide against Mickey’s stomach.

“Fuck.” Mickey fights against his grip, his hips reacting, wanting to arch up. The guy’s fingers dig in harder, and Mickey can almost feel the bruises blossoming. He’s had them before, purple and blue and black against his pale skin, and he’s jerked off touching them. He moves his hips from side to side, not trying to break the guy’s grip, but hoping for more.

He laughs against the base of Mickey’s cock, his breath fanning through the rough, dark hair. “Barely started.” He bites the hair and moves his head back, letting it slide through his teeth, a few strands of it tugging free. Mickey’s whole body jerks, and he can feel a drop of come fall, hot against his skin. “Tsk tsk. Not allowed.” He licks the milky drop from Mickey’s stomach and then the head of his cock again. “Behave yourself.”

“Am.” 

He laughs again and then swallows Mickey down, sucking him deep. Mickey cries out at the sensation, body jerking again. The guy’s mouth is tight and wet and he lets go of Mickey’s hips enough that Mickey can thrust up, fucking between the guy’s blush red lips. Mickey finds a rhythm, working himself in and out of the heat. He’s keyed up and he knows he’s getting close. His fingers dig into his palms and then everything goes cold.

The guy leans back on his haunches and grins at Mickey. His mouth is spit-shiny and he licks his lips. “Not yet.”

“The fuck?”

“Not.” He leans back in and licks a stripe along Mickey’s dick. “Yet.”

Mickey starts to protest, but then the guy’s hot mouth closes around his balls, sucking them and playing with them with his tongue. He takes both between his lips at once and then one at a time, sucking and pulling on them. Mickey can feel his balls tighten and he makes a low noise. He tugs at the tie and arches his back slightly and then everything’s gone again.

“What. The. Fuck.” He pants between each word, glaring at the guy.

“Told you. Gonna make you wait.” He kneels between Mickey’s legs again, his smile cocky and sly. His dick is hard and thick and slick, and Mickey wants it inside him – his ass, his mouth. Mickey licks his lips, his eyes trained on the curve of flesh. “You have to wait for that too.”

Mickey groans, and the guy crawls over him, letting the tip of his cock slide along Mickey’s as he licks at Mickey’s lips. Mickey doesn’t kiss as a rule, but it was part and parcel of this deal, and he’s not above making exceptions for money. The guy kisses Mickey like he fucks him – hard and deep. He bites and sucks and Mickey doesn’t hold back, matching him kiss for kiss. They’re kissing and grinding and Mickey wraps a leg around the guy’s lower back, arching into him.

The guy pulls away, and Mickey’s pretty sure there’s murder in his eyes as he looks at the guy’s bright green eyes. He runs his fingers over Mickey’s cock and then down. His dick and balls are wet with spit, and Mickey can feel it slipping down, sliding over his hole. He clenches his ass, but he’s pretty sure nothing gets buy this guy.

“Is that what you want?”

Mickey wants to answer, but the best he can get is a choked breath when the guy places his tongue against Mickey’s hole, flicking it over the puckered flesh. They’ve only done this once, and Mickey was almost embarrassed with how much he liked it, how turned on he got. It had always seemed disgusting until he found out how to prep himself and then this guy stuck his tongue up Mickey’s ass. 

He’s not there yet, too busy licking and sucking, thumbs prying Mickey’s cheeks apart so he can cover the hole with his mouth and barely fuck the tip of his tongue inside, sucking pressure all around each thrust. He doesn’t hold back – lips and tongue and teeth, pressure and suction. Mickey tries to arch away and thrust down at the same time, warring impulses that make him shiver all over. 

The guy’s thumbs rub over Mickey’s opening and spread it slightly. Mickey whimpers and then it’s inside him, tongue wet and thick. He fucks into Mickey slow and steady then pulls out, licking over the skin gone sensitive, too sensitive. Mickey’s cock is throbbing, aching and all he wants is for the guy to get deeper, push him over the edge.

“Fuck. Fuck, yes.” The guy’s entire tongue is inside him, the tip pressing and licking and Mickey can only imagine how hot and pink his asshole looks. It feels like it’s burning in all the right ways and, even though the stretch is nothing compared to fingers or a cock, it feels just as thick and deep as if Mickey’s riding the guy’s dick. 

He uses his feet for leverage as he angles his hips up so he can thrust down. Mickey’s on the verge of coming. He can feel the heat spiraling inside him, knows he’s close. The tie digs into his skin where he’s putting all of the pressure, all of his weight on the fabric. He wants more, he’s desperate for it, a string of curses falling out of his mouth without any coherent thought. 

“Fucking love eating you out.” The guy growls the words against Mickey’s skin and Mickey makes a high-pitched noise in the back of his throat. He bites the skin next to the hole and Mickey cries out. The guy wraps his fist around the base of Mickey’s dick, looking at him over Mickey’s sweat-damp stomach and chest. “No coming.”

“Fucking Christ.” Mickey falls back toward the bed, feeling the pulse against the guy’s hand. He closes his eyes and manages a few shallow breaths, trying to get himself back under control. The guy’s grip changes and he starts slowly stroking Mickey’s cock but it’s more a distraction than anything else, his rhythm off enough that Mickey can’t fall into it. “C’mon.”

“No.” He uncaps the lube with his thumb and drizzles some on Mickey’s cock, using his hand to coat Mickey’s shaft. He continues to let it pour down on Mickey’s skin, soaking the dark hair at the base of his dick, sliding down over his balls. The guy closes the lube with a snap and tosses it aside then brushes his fingers over Mickey’s balls. The muscles of Mickey’s legs tense and he lets his knees fall further to the side. 

The guy’s hands move, fingertips brushing over Mickey’s sensitive hole, tracing around it and then over it. Mickey arches up again, thrusting into the guy’s fist. He loosens his grip so Mickey’s mostly pushing up into air. Mickey growls a frustrated groan, the sound cut off with a sharp hiss as the guy presses a finger inside him. 

Mickey’s body closes around the intrusion, but the slick finger keeps moving with shallow thrusts. He feels like every muscle in his body is about to snap, and he can’t manage to bear down on the guy’s finger because he keeps pulling back whenever Mickey tries to thrust down. 

“Please. Come the fuck on.” He doesn’t quite recognize his voice. It’s thick and raspy, and he wants to scream in frustration and beg until his throat’s rough and dry. His body is laced with sweat and he has to blink it out of his eyes when his hair falls forward. His back is arched like a bow and he feels like he’s about to break. The guy just grins as he lets go of Mickey’s dick and flicks it with his finger. Mickey gasps in surprise and his erection flags, his body reverberating with the sting. The guy keeps fingering him though, and Mickey keeps moving down against his hand. His body doesn’t care what his brain is reacting to, and soon enough his erection is back, curving up against his stomach again.

Mickey’s close. He knows he’s close and he tugs against the tie. It’s tighter than he thought because the knots don’t move. He doesn’t panic. Instead his cock jerks and he wants to say stop and let me come and everything he’s desperate to, but the guy flicks Mickey’s dick again hard at the tip. It’s more than a gasp this time, especially when the guy follows it up with two more in rapid succession. “The fuck? Stop. Fuck.”

The guy curves his fingers and Mickey flat out whimpers. “Want it?”

“Yes. Please. Jesus fuck, please.” He keeps repeating himself as the guy keeps rubbing, sending shock waves through Mickey that he doesn’t think even a flick of the guy’s finger would stop. “Please. C’mon. Fucking _please_.”

“Yeah.” He breathes it against Mickey’s dick, but Mickey doesn’t hear beyond the first sound before he’s coming. It feels like his whole body is wracked with it, shivering and shaking through it as come leaves trails of heat on his stomach. 

Mickey breathes hard as he comes down, brain still not working and wrists sore from the tie. He blinks to focus and watches the guy as he moves up between Mickey’s legs and positions his dick at Mickey’s hole before pushing in. Mickey grunts softly, his body moving with the thrusts, no resistance except the tightness of his body around the guy’s shaft.

“So tight. Fuck. How are you so tight?” He braces himself over Mickey, hands beside Mickey’s armpits. Mickey can smell himself, the thickness of sweat and exertion. The sickly-sweet cling of the air from downstairs. He can also smell the guy as he leans in to bite at Mickey’s neck and shoulder, leaving teeth marks that will last at least until morning. He smells like beer and second-hand smoke, like some cheap soap and sweat. It all mingles together and fogs Mickey’s head as he tilts his neck back as best he can, exposing his throat to the guy’s mouth even more.

He bites hard and sharp and Mickey’s body jerks. He doesn’t realize he’s closed his eyes until they snap open at the shock. He starts to say something, but stops when he meets the guy’s eyes. They’re a swirl of colors – green and blue and brown and black and gold – and if Mickey were some sort of pussy he could get lost looking into them. Instead he wraps his legs around the guy’s back as he starts thrusting harder. 

“So fucking-” He grunts softly and then doesn’t say anything else, losing himself to the rough slap of skin on skin, of wet flesh smacking loudly against the whir of the air conditioning. Mickey digs his heels in to the guy’s ass, urging him deeper and faster. Harder. Always harder. The guy responds, eyes closed tight as he starts _fucking_ Mickey, taking him like he owns him, like he’s going to imprint himself on Mickey’s skin.

Mickey makes a low noise in his throat, something between a whine and a whimper as the intensity builds. He can feel his dick hardening again, caught in between their bodies, grinding with flesh against flesh. He can feel it building, and he knows he’s going to come again, that this guy is going to wring every last bit of control from Mickey and leave him like some sort of shell.

“C’mon. C’mon.” Mickey mutters it continuously, not even really aware of the words. The guy has dissolved into hard grunts that match every sharp snap of his hips, in rhythm with the heavy and thick slide of his dick deep inside Mickey. “C’mon. Fuck. C’mon. Please. C’mon.”

He shifts so that his body is closer to Mickey’s, so that Mickey’s dick is hot and hard between them, leaking against both their skin. He lowers himself to his elbows and watches Mickey as he fucks him. Mickey wonders how long before he breaks, how deep this guy can go inside him. 

Mickey feels the guy’s body grow taut, the muscles of his ass tightening under Mickey’s heels. He buries himself deep, Mickey’s balls as trapped as his dick. Mickey flexes the tight muscle around the guy’s cock and feels him twitch inside him, shudder around him. His hips jerk him deeper and Mickey feels his control slip and he’s coming again, both of their stomachs slick with it this time.

Mickey’s head falls back against the bed and the guy doesn’t quite collapse on top of him, but his weight settles heavily on top of Mickey. They lay there for a moment not moving and then Mickey tugs at the tie holding his hands. The guy hums against Mickey’s shoulder and then pulls back, easing out slowly. Mickey bites back a noise as everything changes and all he feels is empty. The air is cold against his wet and sweaty skin, body already missing the heat of the guy’s body on his.

He hears the snap of the condom and his body reacts, muscles tightening as if the guy’s dick was still buried deep. He turns his head and watches him walk naked back to the bed. His body is pale, though not as pale as Mickey’s, with spatters of reddish-brown freckles. He’s fucking glorious naked, his dick thick and long even when he’s not hard. He kneels on the bed next to Mickey, his dick practically brushing Mickey’s lips.

Mickey feels the tie loosening and then one wrist is free. He shifts and raises himself up on one elbow, taking the guy’s dick in his mouth. The headboard creaks as the guy grabs hold of it, though his other hand still unties the knot and frees Mickey’s other hand. Mickey curves it around the guy’s ass, feeling the hot remains of his heel prints in the firm muscle. The guy’s free hand curves around the back of Mickey’s head and Mickey sucks him, tasting the faint hint of latex, the saltiness of come. 

It’s an awkward angle, so Mickey puts his hands on the guy’s hips and shifts them both so Mickey’s flat on the bed and the guy’s still holding onto the headboard, fucking slowly into Mickey’s mouth. He’s not hard yet, so Mickey focuses on sucking on him, holding him between the roof of his mouth and his tongue, pressure against the vein along the shaft. Mickey’s jaw aches by the time the guy’s fully hard, and his throat feels raw already. He can feel the tears at the corners of his eyes and he blinks them away as suddenly they’re moving in earnest, the guy’s thick cock filling Mickey’s mouth,.

Mickey doesn’t gag on it, his throat relaxed. His fingers are still at the guy’s hips, holding tight enough that Mickey knows he’s going to leave bruises. Mickey’s thumbs dig in and the guy’s breathing shifts, deepens, roughens. He moves one hand from the headboard to the back of Mickey’s head again, the pressure holding Mickey on his cock changing as his fingers fist in Mickey’s hair tight enough to hurt.

“Your mouth. Your fucking mouth.” His voice is shaking and he’s staring down, watching his dick slide in and out from between Mickey’s lips. Spit drips down the sides of Mickey’s face, his chin. He keeps blinking away tears he can’t seem to stop, watching the guy watch him swallow his dick. “Christ. I just...I can’t...” 

His short nails dig into Mickey’s scalp and the headboard creaks loudly as he pushes deep, come hot as it hits the back of Mickey’s throat, as he sucks hard at the guy’s dick until he’s spent and shaking and breathing like he’s been running from the cops. He pulls out of Mickey’s mouth and settles back on the bed, slumped against the pillows. He’s damp with sweat and filthy from sex. 

Mickey lips his numb lips and closes his eyes. The guy’s hand is still fisted in Mickey’s hair, but he can’t really feel that either. 

“Mind if I stay a little while?”

Mickey shrugs. Their arrangement is simple. The guy gets the room, they fuck, the guy leaves, and Mickey’s got a nice place to stay for the night and a complimentary breakfast. The money’s always in the room when they get there. He’s never tried to cheat Mickey, and Mickey trusts him as much as he trust anyone. Which is not so much trust as waiting for the shoe to drop. “Your money.”

“Your room.”

“Your room. I stay in it.” The guy shrugs and finally releases Mickey’s hair. He sighs heavily and Mickey glances over at him. He’s closed his eyes and his red lashes are damp and spiky. Mickey gets up, rubbing his wrists as he walks to the bathroom. He wets a washcloth to clean himself up then takes another into the room. They guy hasn’t moved, and if it weren’t for his breathing still being slightly uneven, Mickey would think he’s asleep.

Mickey drops the washcloth on the guy’s stomach and laughs when the guy jumps. He starts cleaning him up, making sure to touch him, brush his cock, send shivers of sensation through the guy until he’s almost shaking again. “Jesus. Stop. You’re killing me.”

“Wouldn’t want to do that.” Mickey tosses the washcloth toward the bathroom, climbs over the guy and collapses on the bed. He exhales roughly. “Christ.”

“There’s extra on the dresser. For tonight.”

“Told you. You pay for the night, you get what you want as long as it doesn’t involve piss, food, shit, or fighting. Package deal.”

“Well. It’s there. And you know the rules. Once you’re in the room, I don’t touch the money.”

“How come you only follow the rules if they’re ones that you agree with?”

The guy turns on his side and props his head up on his hand. “What’s your name?”

“No.”

“I want something to call you in my head. Say when I’m fucking you.”

Mickey shakes his head. “Call me whatever you want. John. Joe. Dick. Fucking asshole. I’ll answer to whatever you want me to.” 

“Ian.”

“Fine. Ian. Call me that.”

“No.” He laughs and reaches out, running a finger from Mickey’s throat down to his dick. “I’m Ian.”

“Fuck.” Mickey jerks away and gets up to start searching for his clothes. “Okay, well, it was nice working with you. See ya.” He pulls on his jeans as fast as he can, leaving them undone as he starts pulling on his t-shirt. “Nice while it lasted.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“That’s not how it works. I told you. I’m the whore you hire. You pay, I play. That’s the way it works. I don’t want to know who you are or what you do. I don’t want to know anything about you except for what you want when it comes to fucking.”

“I’m not asking to fucking marry you,” the guy – fuck, Ian – snaps. “I just want you to say my name. You don’t want to tell me yours, that’s fine. I’ll call you whatever I want. But _I’m_ paying, remember?”

Mickey inhales and exhales through his nose, the sound loud in the room. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine.” Mickey rolls his eyes and pulls his shirt off again. “ _Ian_.”


End file.
